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About Me

I was born in Jamaica and lived there till I got married and eventually moved to Canada. After a long career in a large urban public library I now work part-time in local history. I have been involved for many years in genealogical research and my main interests lie in finding out more about my Jamaican family history. I hope in my musings to show the methods I used to find out more about my family.
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Monday, 17 September 2007

About My Uncles -- part 3

And now to the two youngest Smedmore boys, my uncles Lucius and Julian. My Uncle Lucius was born at 49 Beeston Street on 18 November 1899, the eighth child of William Dey Smedmore and his wife, Amanda. I have only one photograph of my Uncle Lucius, not a very good one ... probably a passport photo. Here it is:

He had apparently sent the photo to his cousin, John Cassis in Toronto, as on the back of the picture he had written:

"This is a recent snap but I don't think the photographer has done me justice. You know, John, I was never half as ugly. Best love to Fanny, yourself and the family, from Maysie and self, Lucius".

Maysie was his wife ... more of that in a moment. My grandfather would have been sixty-three when Lucius was born, and sixty-seven when Julian, the youngest, was born four years later in 1902. It boggles the mind to think how difficult it must have been for these younger brothers to have a father who was old enough to be their grandfather. And when he died in 1914, Lucius would have been fifteen and Julian just eleven. I think they were probably brought up more by their older sisters and mother as my grandfather was not a well man in his latter years, suffering with serious migraine headaches which may well have been the pre-cursor of the cerebral haemorrhage which killed him. I remember my Uncle Rodney relating how they had to keep quiet most of the time because of his father's headaches. Rodney, apparently, loved to build things and was hammering together a chicken coop when told to stop because his father couldn't stand the noise. He was somewhat resentful about that, I remember.

But back to Lucius. Like other members of his family he was a Freemason, a member of St. John's Lodge, and he also worked for Henderson & Company, eventually becoming secretary of two of their sugar estates Orange Valley and Georges Valley in Trelawny. (When I visited Jamaica in 2003 I spent an afternoon at Orange Valley and saw the ruins of the old sugar factory and slave hospital. I also saw the paw-paw grove at Georges Valley. Paw-paw, aka papaya is now a popular export fruit.) Here is a picture of a section of the grove:

Lucius married quite young by Smedmore standards, when he was twenty-four, to Carrie May Burke, the daughter of Aubrey Mapletoft Burke and his wife, Amy Ann Depass. Maysie was three years younger than Lucius. From what I've been told there was some opposition to the marriage from Lucius's mother and two older sisters but he was determined to get married. The marriage was written up in the Jamaica Gleaner and was apparently considered quite the event of the season. Rodney was best man and Lucius's brothers, Owen and Julian, were ushers. The ceremony was performed by the then Bishop of Jamaica ... not surprising as Lucius, like all the Smedmores, was a pillar of the Kingston Parish Church and in fact was a member of the Parish Church Committee.

Lucius and Maysie had two daughters, Marjorie and Gloria, both of whom were quite a bit older than me so we were not very close as cousins. Unfortunately, the marriage ended in divorce in 1956, though they remained friendly and Lucius went to live with Marjorie and her husband, Eric Crawford on Trafalgar Road. It was there, in May of 1963, that Lucius was brutally murdered by a thief. He was alone at the time, as Eric and Marjorie had gone on a holiday to Mexico. The murderer was eventually caught, confessed, was tried and found guilty, and hanged. This event was a tragic one in the family. At the time my parents were visiting me and my family in Winnipeg where we were living, and it was a tremendous shock to them. Worse was to come later that year when my brother, Micky, died of a cerebral haemorrhage in October.

And now to my Uncle Julian, the youngest of the family, the apple of his eldest sister's eye, as I was told. He was different from the others, a very volatile person, someone who had strong likes and dislikes, and in fact, the only uncle that I ever had a falling-out with. He was quite the sportsman. He played cricket and was a member of several clubs. Unlike the others to the best of my knowledge, he did not become a Freemason, but he was a staunch member of the Kingston Parish Church and was a lay delegate to Synod for many years. He was always perfectly turned out in his dress and affected a very British accent, though he would, at times, lapse into Jamaican patois. He was known, affectionately, by family and friends as "The Count". He married, somewhat late in life at age fifty, Enid Neilson, the daughter of the Reverend Christopher Charles Neilson, a Methodist minister. They were married in Lyndhurst Methodist Church in 1953 and the reception was held by my parents at 5 Holborn Road. To the best of my knowledge Julian continued to attend Kingston Parish Church while Enid remained a Methodist.I mentioned having a falling-out with Julian. It was some months before my wedding in 1957. I had had an emergency appendectomy and was at home on sick leave, feeling rather sorry for myself, as my mother was in Toronto at the time visiting my brother and his wife and their new baby. I was invited by Julian's sister-in-law, Ruby, to visit her family in Morant Bay. Unfortunately, Julian had quarrelled with Ruby's husband, Edward, and he informed me that "no niece of mine will visit these people, since I have quarrelled with them". I wasn't about to take this interference in my life and we had a fierce quarrel and did not speak for almost six months. I seriously considered uninviting him to my wedding but cooler heads prevailed ... my mother told my I could not do that! ... and we made it up. For all his peculiarities he was a very affectionate uncle. He and Enid had a volatile relationship, but when she was struck with a massive stroke which left her unable to speak, he was devastated, even more so when she died shortly afterwards.This is a photo of the two of them taken in happier times:

And Great Uncle Julian...well, you're being nice, but it's your blog. He was certainly a character, that's for sure. I'll never forget that LONG speech he gave at Grandma and Grandad's 50th wedding anniversary party. I didn't have a clue as to what he was talking about.

And what's with that photo of Enid? She looks like she's got some light pancake makeup on her face. Not one of her better photos.